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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24851866">Magic and Cinder</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirris_Sunless/pseuds/Sirris_Sunless'>Sirris_Sunless</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Linking of the Flame [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dark Souls III</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Gen, M/M, Orbeck angsting, The Ashen One is mute, best ending lol, master/student, maybe something more than friendship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:14:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,596</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24851866</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirris_Sunless/pseuds/Sirris_Sunless</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ashen One makes Orbeck a promise about exchanging scrolls, but Orbeck can't up hold his end. He wants to leave Firelink and the Ashen One doesn't want him to go.<br/>The best ending I can think of for these two.</p><p>An independent story succeeding one about Solaire and the Undead.</p><p>(Note: the Ashen One, just like the Undead he used to be, cannot talk)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ashen One/Orbeck of Vinheim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Linking of the Flame [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797904</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Magic and Cinder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>**</strong>
</p><p>At Crucifixion Woods, Orbeck requested a promise from the Ashen One, half-heartedly, of course.</p><p>“What champion demands service without recompense? Clearly you are not that sort of man.</p><p>So, you will make me a promise, that in exchange for my teaching, you will bring me knowledge.”</p><p>The Ashen One nodded and ignored the condescension in his tone. Orbeck reckoned this mute undead couldn’t even tell his sarcasm, so he gave him a smile, a half-hearted one as well. He had stayed in this humid swamp for long enough. It wouldn’t be so bad to switch to the Firelink Shrine. </p><p>“Very well. Then, I am Orbeck of Vinheim. Unkindled one, I shall teach you sorceries. We will learn together, it shall be like our very own school.”</p><p>It wouldn't be so bad to have someone to play the game, the game of Dragon School, one he never got a chance to be part of.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <strong>*Sage’s Scroll*</strong>
</p><p>Since he became Undead and was banished from the Dragon School, Orbeck became an empty shell hanging onto sorcery. He was parched for knowledge but could not reach the fountain, only surviving by licking some dew. But that would suffice - after all, an Undead should never reach their goal, for when they do, an Undead would go hollow.</p><p>Orbeck moved his study from the Crucifixion Woods to Firelink Shrine and continued his learning. He had no actual expectation for the Unkindled one, but was curious enough to see what that champion would bring back --- if he brings back anything at all. The secrets of sorcery worthed nothing in this decaying world, and no promise had any value. “Our very own school” was merely a joke. In the rare cases when Orbeck lectured the Ashen One about sorcery, the mage usually wrapped it up without care, and accused the Ashen One for not paying attention. Well, his student could not talk, and therefore could not prove himself to be listening.</p><p> </p><p>When the Ashen One brought back the first scroll, Orbeck immediately realized falsehood of his own perception. About this Unkindled, about his promise.</p><p>“Oh, my… This is stupendous. Then the Undead Legion of Farron possesses sorceries quite unknown.”</p><p>He felt some shame for not placing his trust in the other man. So he thanked the Ashen One with sincerity. </p><p>“Thank you, for upholding your end of the bargain.”</p><p>The Sage Scroll lay in Orbeck’s hands, carrying the weight of a promise. Orbeck was reminded of the concept of time, as he felt the grief of wasting all the years by the swamp.</p><p>“I doubt I ever would have made this discovery alone.” He chuckled somewhat bitterly, and gestured to the Ashen One to sit next to him, “Now, let us unravel the thing, so you may put these new sorceries to use.”</p><p>Later that day, soul darts hailed across the cliff outside Firelink Shrine one after another. Orbeck felt dizzy as he watched them, like a dehydrated wanderer downed too much booze too quickly. He leaned on a gravestone to wait for that weird feeling to pass. Then he took out a ring from his coat and handed it to the Ashen One.</p><p>“I have something for you. You're a fine sorcerer now, no mistake. You should have something to prove it.”</p><p>The Ashen One took off his gauntlets to receive the ring. He probably recognized its well-preserved condition despite its history. This was no doubt a valuable mark to his master. So the Unkindled looked at Orbeck, seeking reassurance with his eyes. Orbeck somehow saw his younger self accepting this ring from the Dragon School. Much unlike him, he put on a gentle voice, </p><p>“Go on. If I'm giving something away, you'd better well take it.”</p><p>The Ashen One grinned and put on the ring. He then searched on himself and threw something to the ground. It made an unnatural calling sounded like “thank you”. Orbeck was stunned. He had never seen such a thing. The Ashen One picked up the carving, embarrassed, and showed it to his master. It was a small statue with a face of gratitude. </p><p>“Well, how intriguing.” Orbeck commented blankly. The Ashen One grinned again and pointed to the gate, gesturing that he needed to leave. So Orbeck told his student,</p><p>“Promise to stay safe.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <strong>*Golden Scroll*</strong>
</p><p>As time passed, more visitors came to Firelink Shrine. Some of them were also lord-seeking champions; some were sages saved by the Ashen One; and some were unexpected guests from the Sable Church of Londor. </p><p>Orbeck knew what Londors was after. Usurp the first flame and found an age of Hollows. He even heard Yuria of Londor address the Ashen One as “our lord”. He had no opinion about this matter, for fire was not in his pursuit, only sorcery was.</p><p>The Ashen One brought him the Golden Scroll, a rare treasure for Orbeck.</p><p>“Oh, my… This is stupendous. It's from Oolacile, an ancient land of golden sorceries. Not even the Dragon School possesses such a long-lost scroll...”</p><p> </p><p>The sorcerer dived into the secrets of magic. When he went to look for the Ashen One with unraveled spells, he heard Yuria’s voice from the dark aisle of the shrine.</p><p>“<em> Oh, good Hollow. I'm afraid I must say... Orbeck of Vinheim is a cause of much consternation. He proclaimeth himself Lord of Hollows. If left alone, he may one day imperil thy rule. Fall to this matter yarely, else we are unravelled. Decisiveness is the mark of a true monarch... </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Orbeck could recall no memory concerning Londor. However, he was after all a former “student” from the Dragon School, and his connections were not in his hands. He returned to his corner, put the Golden Scroll away, and picked up a random tome instead. Before he could finish a chapter, Clink. Clang, the sound of the Ashen One’s armor echoed in the dark, as well as his steps. His sword carried snowflakes from Irithyll, floating over every inch he walked. Orbeck closed his eyes as he heard the Unkindled approaching.</p><p>“It is folly to claim lives recklessly, friend. Do not be tempted.”</p><p>The sorcerer spoke in a detached tone.</p><p>“No matter the victim's stature, every killing has a consequence. Even as I bloodied my hands, I never realised this simple truth. Hmph. There I was, the very definition of a fool…”</p><p>He never raised his eyes. His dagger on his belt and his staff behind his hand. A moment later, the Ashen One walked away. </p><p> </p><p>The Ashen One asked the Firekeeper to heal his dark sigils. Then Yuria left the shrine.</p><p> </p><p>Unsettled, Orbeck waited for the Ashen One to return. Days, weeks. Undead had no sense of time. Eventually the Ashen One was back in front of his master. The sorcerer looked up from a book, his tumbled thoughts slipped his lips as an insincere chuckle,</p><p>“I see you have forgone your lordship, Liege of Hollows.”</p><p>The Ashen One froze, then he pointed to the direction where Yuria used to stand, and pointed at Orbeck. He made a gesture of beheading someone and wrote on a scratch paper: <em> Yuria, liar. </em></p><p>“And you trust me so?” Orbeck’s voice started to get cold, “I think I told you, friend, I’ve bloodied my hands.”</p><p>The Ashen One blinked a few times, and wrote: <em> I, pilgrim of fire. You, pilgrim of sorcery. No give up, no betrayal. </em></p><p>Those words choked the sorcerer by his throat. The Ashen One must not have expected his reaction. It was not even expected by himself --- the broken phrases he wrote burned in Orbeck’s chest. Orbeck's numb mouth tasted a certain bitterness, while an undead should have lost their sense of taste. That bitterness flushed all the way down to his heart. He had never felt anything alike before. He glowered at the Ashen One’s writing and felt his chin stiffened. In something akin to rage or shame, Orbeck snatched the paper from his student’s hand.  </p><p>“Do not compare yourself to me, Unkindled one!”</p><p>The Ashen One was so confounded that he even forgot to blink. His ignorance --- or innocence, suddenly abashed Orbeck. The sorcerer clutched the paper tightly and took in a few deep breaths. Glaring at his pupil, he declared,</p><p>“I am not like you, Unkindled one, Champion of Ash. I am Orbeck of Vinheim, here to teach you sorceries, only to uphold my end of the bargain.”</p><p>He sat down again and switched to his usual deep, impassive voice.</p><p>“Now I’d like some time to read my scroll. So please, leave me alone.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <strong>*Logan’s Scroll*</strong>
</p><p>Orbeck soon regretted what he had done. That was in no way justified. The Ashen One was an idiot, but he was kind, and he was a champion. Though he failed in linking the fire, his history had much honor, compared to that of Orbeck. There were countless Undeads in this world, but how many could ring the two bells, defeat the gods, and step into the flame?</p><p>Orbeck knew he himself would not abide. He lived for sorcery, not for flame. But was there no flame, humans would not have lived as humans.</p><p> </p><p>It took the Ashen One long enough to bring back another scroll. Orbeck could see weariness and injuries on his face and his broken armor. New spells were not of importance compared to his condition, but Orbeck still unrolled the scroll. As soon as he saw the name that haunted every sorcerer in Vinheim, he forgot everything else.</p><p>“Oh, my! You've made quite the discovery! This is a scroll of the prodigious Big Hat Logan. A masterful sorcerer, long missed in Vinheim...”</p><p>His hands started to shake as he felt like he was holding a mirror, not a scroll. Through the mirror Orbeck saw the reflection of his own ragged childhood. His face covered by scars from bullies, his eyes ignited with dim fire. He was staring at the mirror, trying out a tattered big hat found in the trash. </p><p> </p><p>Cling, Clang. The Ashen One waved in front of his master and brought his armor clattering. Drawn back to the present by that noise, Orbeck looked up at his pupil and set Logan’s Scroll aside.</p><p><em>What is it?</em> The Unkindled asked with his eyes.</p><p>“Nothing. I was just… just thinking about Vinheim.” Orbeck mumbled. </p><p>Then he saw the Ashen One’s relieved smile, and the scratches on his armor. Orbeck swallowed the everlasting bitterness in his throat and forced out a smirk,</p><p>“I guess your journey wasn't so smooth, friend. I think you might be in need of some gimmicks.”</p><p> </p><p>He taught the Ashen One to manipulate light to disguise himself, to use a distant sound to drive monsters away, and to cover his steps with magic. After some hesitance, he taught the Ashen One that unforgiving spell, the Pestilent Mist.</p><p>“This sorcery is highly dangerous, only taught to ‘trusted members’ in Dragon School,” Orbeck pulled the Ashen One away from the white mist, “Even the caster is not immune to its effect. Use it with caution.”</p><p>The Ashen One nodded. Orbeck felt even worse. Maybe I shouldn’t have taught him these, but he already learned them all, he thought, then it’s time to give him the other ring. Man could not cast infinite spells, but a ring is an everlasting seal. So Orbeck took off the slumbering dragoncrest ring from his own hand.</p><p>“How do you like gimmicks, friend? ”</p><p>He gave the ring to the Ashen One and taught him a gesture signifying silent ally.</p><p>“This is a sign, a cipher employed by sorcerers who use quietude to their advantage. With this, you can be sure to tell friend from foe from your very first encounter. It's a very old practice at this point...but one that you deserve to know.” </p><p> </p><p>The Ashen One practiced the “Silent Ally” gesture before Orbeck, no matter how much his master mocked his clumsiness. Orbeck laughed at him all he wanted while thinking, great, I haven’t told him everything, but at least I taught him everything. Just a little longer, until I can’t continue, then I will confess everything.</p><p> </p><p>They returned to the shrine. Orbeck unwrapped Logan’s scroll and waited for the Ashen One to leave. But this time his pupil did not leave. He was repeating something inaudible, with an excited smile of a child who wanted to share treasure with his friend. He threw his arms up to make a big sorcery hat in the air. Orbeck read his lips. He said: <em> Logan, Logan, Big Hat Logan </em>.</p><p>“Yes, the Big Hat Logan.” Orbeck did not understand. So the Ashen One wrote: <em> Sorcerer, Master. </em>Orbeck finally picked up.</p><p>“What, you’ve met him?”</p><p>The Ashen One nodded, a tint of sorrow flashed across his eyes. He wrote: <em> And then Hollow. Misfortune.  </em></p><p>How misfortunate, Orbeck thought. Being undead deprived human with life, and hollowing deprived consciousness and memory. One’d knew nothing, remembered nothing, including one’s own name. Should he go hollow, he would probably remember nothing but sorceries. </p><p>Then Orbeck thought of something and said: “You haven't told me your name all this time, Unkindled.”</p><p>The Ashen One wrote with a bashful smile:<em> I have no name.  </em></p><p>“So you don’t remember, but insist on linking the fire?”</p><p>The Ashen One’s gesture showed his resolve. </p><p>“Why?”</p><p>He wrote: <em> With fire, humanity ahead; No fire, no death but Hollow. </em></p><p>“But the fire will fade, it is fading already.” Orbeck intentionally picked the meanest way to respond. That did not bother the Ashen One. Clearly he had thought about this. He shook his head quietly and wrote: <em> Because friend, no betrayal.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Orbeck didn’t comprehend how his friend was related to the flame, but he knew the Ashen One was determined to fulfill his duty, so he said,</p><p>“Well then, just one thing. Promise to stay safe.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*Crystal Scroll*</strong>
</p><p>Seeing the Crystal Scroll the Ashen One brought back, Orbeck was struck by bliss and despair side by side. Bliss for possessing the scroll countless mages dreamed of, despair for realizing this was the last thing he could accept. </p><p>“Unfathomable... This is a crystal sorcery, created by the pale dragon, thought only to exist in legend...</p><p>I am ever grateful to you. This is truly sublime. I am afraid this is a debt I cannot repay, only...”</p><p>Only what? Orbeck stopped himself. What else can I give you as a repayment?</p><p>So instead he said, “I will be sure to unravel it for you. Just a moment.”</p><p> </p><p>And the Ashen One gave him that familiar warm smile. He never rushed his master, but when he return, Orbeck’s exhaustion was clear to everyone. Obviously the sorcerer was studying the Crystal Scroll day and night. Worried, the Ashen One kneeled in front of his master and pulled his book gently. </p><p>Orbeck obediently set down the book. He pushed the scrolls and tomes away and found a comfortable position against the wall, as he spoke,</p><p>“In Vinheim, I was an assassin. A sorcerer only in name, a killer for hire.”</p><p>Those words slipped out of his lips so smoothly, much more easily than he imagined. The Ashen One blinked and waited for him to continue. So Orbeck went on like chatting with an old friend about the past, his voice unchanging, slow and deep. </p><p>“What a fool I was, thinking one day I would learn real sorceries. When I became Undead, I was exiled from the school. But here I am, now, exploring the depths of sorcery. All thanks to you, I might add.” </p><p>That was it. Orbeck confessed his darkest past. The sorcerer never had a friend, but he knew he should tell the truth to one. The Ashen One did not comment about Orbeck’s past at all. He must have thought that his master had long let go of his shame, his regret, his guilt and humiliation. So the Unkindled just waved with a bashful smile, as if to say “you are welcome”. Orbeck smiled too ---- well done, he successfully hid all the bitterness in his chest and let none of it spill. So the Ashen One still saw him as the proud, intelligent, and impatient master.</p><p>He didn’t see the impoverished boy, trying on a ragged big hat in front of a broken mirror.</p><p>He didn’t see the young man, clinging to his staff, struggling to wash the bloodstain off his hands at midnight, in the Dragon School. </p><p>He didn’t see the undead, wandering in the wasted city like a Hollow after his exile. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, quit sticking here like a fool,” so Orbeck said to his pupil, “Go forth. You’ll have new spells to learn next time.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <strong>*The Departure*</strong>
</p><p>Orbeck soon taught all the advanced crystal spells to the Ashen One. After the final lesson, the Ashen One helped his master to clean up the mess they made. Orbeck picked up every spell he learned and obtained a large pile.</p><p>“You are no ordinary man. All of these sorceries, and you've mastered every one,” he congratulated his student truthfully, “If this were the Dragon School, you'd be…”</p><p>The Dragon School. Hah, I can’t believe I’m still thinking about the Dragon School….</p><p>He chuckled softly and said, “..Well, you’d be overtly despised, and banished from the place.”  </p><p> </p><p>Did they do that to you? The Ashen One’s eyes flickered with that question. Even a fool could become so telling, Orbeck amused himself with such thought. He did not reply, but stood up and bid the Ashen One farewell.</p><p>“Well I suppose it's time I packed my bag. I'd hate to see our agreement end sourly. Better left tucked away as a pleasant memory. It’s been nice running our little school.” </p><p>He could not go on. Maybe the Ashen One could find him more scrolls, but he could not go on.</p><p>The Ashen One barely understood the turning of this event. He watched Orbeck pack his books, notes, and his beloved scrolls. Only until he picked up his staff, the Ashen One got a hold of what was happening. He grabbed the sorcerer by his sleeves and shook his head violently, his eyes filled with confusion and astonishment. </p><p>“I thank you dearly, my friend,” Orbeck shunned those eyes, “It is my own problem. I cannot continue. Promise… to stay safe on your journey.”</p><p><em> Why? </em> The Ashen One asked with his lips, but Orbeck would not answer. He disregarded his pupil sticking onto his sleeves like a snail, and packed all his belongings. After that was done and him ready to go, the Ashen One already quit hindering him. </p><p>Great. Orbeck thought, as he tucked his loosened sleeves. He gave one last glance at the corner and took a step, only to come face to face with the Ashen One. He turned and tried to leave from another direction. The Ashen One ran past him and blocked that path. Wherever he went, the Ashen One would go stand before him, arms open. They ran a few circles in the shrine until Orbeck got tired of this stupid game.</p><p>“Enough!” The sorcerer hissed. For the first time, the polite, humble Ashen One didn’t react to his master’s reproach. Eyes brimming with tears, he simply moved his lips to form a quiet word. </p><p>
  <em> Why. </em>
</p><p> “As I said, it is my own problem.”</p><p>Why? The Ashen One looked up at him, occasionally wiping his face to stop the tears falling. Hard edges of knight gauntlet left traces of red on his face. Orbeck started to get irritated.</p><p>“Because I’ve had enough faking this dream of a sorcery school!” Orbeck replied coldly, “It’s time for me to wake up.” </p><p> </p><p>The Ashen One did not understand. Of course he couldn’t, but he still didn’t let his master go. They chased around the shrine one more time and that consumed Orbeck’s remaining patience. The sorcerer returned to his corner.</p><p>“If you insist.” He sat down and picked up a random book, his baggage unpacked. He only needed to wait for the Ashen One to leave. The Unkindled bore a duty, so they always had to leave. But the Ashen One did not leave. He sat down in front of Orbeck, in his usual spot when they had lessons, and waited there as if he had all the time in the world. </p><p> </p><p>Orbeck never had much patience. He tossed the book away before finishing even one chapter. The Ashen One had fallen asleep on a pile of tomes. He could have left then. It’d be so easily done with Spook, but something chained the sorcerer’s feet to the floor so he couldn’t stand up to take a step. He simply sat and watched the other man.</p><p>Like a child, he thought, so the undead could look no different than human.</p><p>The pile of books collapsed. Startled, the Ashen One woke up jumping. His eyes still half-closed, his first reaction was to dart toward Orbeck, catching him by one arm. He saw Orbeck did not leave but still intended to, his face torn comically in between joy and beseech. The sorcerer finally let out a laugh like one would have to a clumsy student, but his smile faded right away.</p><p>“I can no longer pretend as if we were the Dragon School.” He pulled the Ashen One away and said, his intentionally lowered voice dry and coarse.  </p><p>“I’m an assassin, never a sorcerer. And the Dragon School… was just some corrupted institution utilizing my kind.</p><p>“But you, Unkindled one… you held up to your promise. You brought me knowledge that no sorcerer could ever dream of. You’ve mastered every spell. Now, I have nothing more to teach you, and no position as your master.”</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, the Ashen One simply stared at Orbeck. He did not try any gesture or word. He simply stared. Eventually, Orbeck could no longer take that straightforward look and turned away. Then the Ashen One pulled out a pen and started to doodle on a piece of paper. He did it so rudely and fast since he knew Orbeck had little patience. Soon the sorcerer saw that ridiculous sketch, a school with a dragon’s head on top. </p><p>In an extravagant manner, the Ashen One drew a large, black cross mark on the “Dragon School” picture, shaking his head to Orbeck. As if this was not enough, he crumpled the “Dragon School” and threw it on the floor to step on it. Then he pointed at Orbeck and himself, while silently repeating one word: <em>Master</em>.</p><p>Lastly, the Ashen One pointed at Orbeck, and said: Sorcerer. </p><p>Then he took out his staff and casted Hidden Body. The Ashen One learned this spell well, but Orbeck was experienced enough to distinguish him from the surroundings. Knowingly, the transparent Ashen One took a few steps forward and opened his arm, as if to say: I would have died so many times without you.</p><p>Orbeck stood deadly still. The invisible Ashen One walked up to him and took his hand. He knew the sorcerer could see him, so he remained in Hidden Body form, looked into Orbeck’s eyes and quietly repeated: Master. Sorcerer.</p><p>Master, sorcerer, pilgrim of sorcery. I, Unkindled Ash, pilgrim of Cinder. No past, no Dragon School.</p><p>No betrayal. Friend. No betrayal.</p><p> </p><p>The two stuck there in the corner of Firelink Shrine, the invisible, mute Ashen One and his grumpy master, until Orbeck of Vinheim let out an unconvincing “Hmph”. He shook off the Ashen One’s hand and turned his face away.</p><p>It’d be way too embarrassing to allow a pupil to see his tears.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <strong>**</strong>
</p><p>The Ashen One explored Lothric with Orbeck. They went to the castle, then the Grand Archives. They learned much more about sorcery and even started to read into pyromancy and miracles, until there was no place left to go except for the end of the world, Kiln of the first flame. </p><p>“I guess it’s time to take your leave?”</p><p>On the hill surrounded by gravestones, Orbeck and the Ashen One stood side by side, gazing at the gigantic Darksign in the sky. The Ashen One threw down one carving which made such a sound: “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“What’s the need to apologize?” The sorcerer even smiled for a little. The Ashen One remained quiet. He searched on himself and put something into his master’s palm, his hard knight gauntlet enclosing the sorcerer's gloved hand. Orbeck could feel the stony forms of two rings pressed firmly into his flesh. He unrolled his fingers. These two rings had the same shape and material to those he handed out, only bearing different seals - the bellowing and lingering dragons. These were the rings Orbeck longed for but never received from the Dragon School.</p><p>With the two rings in hand, Orbeck felt lost. The Ashen One picked up his other hand and used his finger to write in his palm: <em> Master, sorcerer, may the flame guide thee.  </em></p><p>Then he gave the mage’s hand a gentle squeeze and added: <em> don’t give up? </em></p><p>Orbeck immediately thought of their meeting in the Crucifixion Woods. The Ashen One was staring at him like a fool then, and made him a promise about the scroll. Orbeck felt the muscles on his cheek twitching, maybe from trying to smile. He heard himself say,</p><p>“I will not. I make you the promise.”</p><p>And thus he returned a promise to the Ashen One, though he didn't know what he had left to give up. </p><p>The Ashen One looked into the sorcerer’s eyes, examining his answer, or maybe he already saw through his answer. At last he opened his arms and embraced his master. The knight’s embrace was stern and warm, smelled like sunlight. Orbeck inhaled deeply to let the gentle smell fill his lifeless chest. He tried his best to suppress his shaking voice and whispered into the Unkindled’s ear,</p><p>“You have my thanks, for everything. It has been… my pleasure.”</p><p>After a while he heard a light exhalation. He knew it was the Ashen One’s quiet laugh. He was happy, very well.</p><p>And then he left. Orbeck watched him go. The Ashen One walked a few feet away. He suddenly turned back and gave his master a “silent ally” gesture. Long after the Ashen One disappeared in the distance, he was still looking that way.</p><p>The Darksign on the sky was gone. Orbeck still stood there.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>*The End*</strong>
</p><p>The first flame was linked and the Darksign replaced by the Sun. The curse upon the Undead was temporarily lifted, and they regained their fleeting form as humans.</p><p>An unknown period of time passed. Some travelers found a corpse of a young man by the graves outside Firelink Shrine. His face was calm and beautiful as living, his dark blue coat clean and well-kept. He was surrounded by scrolls and books, while his hand clutching to a scrappy note: <em>I, pilgrim of fire. You, pilgrim of sorcery. No give up, no betrayal. </em>They could not work out this note, except for the conclusion that whoever wrote it was dear to the dead. From the rings on this corpse and the annotation in the scrolls, they concluded that this young man was an elite from the Dragon School, master of four great sorceries. </p><p>They would never know that he was Orbeck of Vinheim, skilled assassin, teacher of the Champion of Ash. They would never figure why he died here as a human, or why he died with an unworried smile. So they buried him and took only his knowledge.</p><p>Only Orbeck himself knew at the end of his life, that he lived for sorcery, not for flame. But without flame, mankind would never have lived as mankind.</p>
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